So In Love
by Stuckkie
Summary: DavexJohn. There's a new kid at Dave's high school, a mute kid named John, and there's just something about him. Co-written with lovemahBF. Rated M for language and sexual content.
1. EB: Survive your first day

**Author's Note: **Chapters focused on John's perspective are mostly written by lovemahBF. Chapters focused on Dave's perspective are mostly written by Stuckkie.

**EB: Survive your first day at a new school**

John didn't remember much from the day he and his cousin Jake had gone trekking through the backwoods of England. He remembered Jake bringing him across the frozen lake to show him something, remembered a cracking sound, remembered the distinct feeling of the ice-water soaking through his thick wool socks. Then nothing. The next time he'd woken up, it was in a hospital in America, hooked up to a million machines with a doctor gently telling him that he'd caught a fever and that it had damaged his vocal chords. At seven years old, he was suddenly a mute. The only time anyone could hear his voice was when he laughed. It was quiet and slightly hoarse, but it was still his voice, so John made a point of laughing whenever he could. He'd learned sign language easily, but when that failed, he usually just wrote down what he wanted to say and any communication problems were resolved, if a little slowly.

Unfortunately, every time it got cold, no matter how little, he was always in danger of getting another bad fever, and Washington had been 20% politics and 80% cold weather. His dad had gotten a job offer from a big company in Texas and John needed warmer weather, so here they were. That meant more money and easier living, so John hadn't put up a fuss. If it helped his dad feel more at ease about bills and stuff, why not. But as he stood in front of the door to his first period class, hands nervously twisting the hem of his shirt, he'd cursed that thought.

_Why not_, what an idiot. He'd been comfortable in Washington. People at the school had understood. Of course he worried about possible bullying; he was smaller than most other boys at seventeen and he'd heard that southern people were scary. Were they more prone to fight? Did he not make eye-contact, like you were supposed to do with dogs? The bell had rung ten minutes ago, the hallway slowly filtered into emptiness, and John was still staring at the door, blood rushing in his ears. Finally, he reached forward. _It's just a classroom. Just stupid kids. Just senior year. You can do this_, he coached himself and grabbed the handle, feeling a jolt of nervousness clench his heart before he was pushing it open and walking in, wincing as all eyes turned on him.

Two seconds later he was forced to admit that things were already going better than expected. No one was wearing overalls, there was no lynch mob in the back, and there were no guns lying on the desks. Dammit, the internet had lied. He stood at the front, glancing at the teacher out of the corner of his eyes as she introduced him, and he furrowed his eyebrows slightly, looking at her straight in the face. She wasn't gonna...? No? Him being mute wasn't a thing that had to be said? He, the mute kid, was going to have to somehow find a way to inform everyone.

Then, as she neared the end of her speech, John realized that he'd soon be sitting down and he turned his attention to the class, eyes sweeping the rows for an empty seat. And the first thing that had caught his attention, surprisingly, wasn't a seat. It was what was occupying a seat. And it was tall, blonde, and...douchey, with his shades on in the classroom. But that couldn't stop John from taking in the line of his jaw and the width of his shoulders, and his hands tightened their grip on the straps of his book bag. He tore his eyes away from the blonde instinctively to the seat next to him to see if his friend had noticed him staring. Which he totally hadn't been. But lo and behold, the seat was empty. So when it came time for him to sit, he swallowed his nervousness and crossed straight to it.

The blonde nodded once in greeting as John slid into the seat and said, "Sup. The name's Strider. Dave Strider."

John offered a small head nod in return to Dave's greeting, a nervous smile on his face. He rolled his tongue in his mouth, as if testing the name and then gave him a small wave, taking out a notebook and pen and writing, "I'm John! John Egbert." He watched Dave take the note, brow wrinkling before it smoothed out in incredulous amusement.

"What, are we in middle school? We don't have to pass notes, man. Ms. Green doesn't give a shit."

John raised both eyebrows at that, looking at the blonde impassively for a moment before his lips curled in a mischievous smile. Sometimes he found he enjoyed telling people he was a mute. It always shocked them. He picked up the pen again, writing in that same neat cursive, "What? You're suggesting I talk?"

Dave swung his legs down from the desk, turning to face John, mouth twisting into a disbelieving scowl. "Yes, I'm 'suggesting' you talk, asshole."

John's eyebrows flew up at the word. One dark brow furrowed, leaving the other arched dangerously above his blue eyes and he wrote, taking his time with it, and then leaned an elbow on the desk, cheek resting on his fist as he slid it over to Dave. "Well, 'asshole', that's gonna be a problem. Talking is a little bit difficult when you're mute."

"Hey, you can't steal my trick of sarcastically using your own word choice against you-oh. _Oh_." As expected, shock and a little bit of regret broke out across the blonde's features, and John watched with a vindictive pleasure as Dave's cocky attitude fell in his surprise. "Well, you could've said something earlier. ...And by 'said' I mean written." Dave seemed to be struggling, scrambling to recover. "You know what? Let's start over. Hi, I'm Dave Strider, and I totally respect the hell out of your writing abilities."

From the moment Dave had called him asshole John had been determined not to like him, but he couldn't stop himself from giving a huff of laughter at Dave's introduction. He took a second to hear his own voice, as he always did, before penning out a response. "Hello, Dave Strider, I'm John Egbert and I respect you for respecting my writing abilities."

He didn't deserve to, but Dave did look mildly relieved as he read. "Great. That's been established. There's so much respect in here I'm surprised Aretha Franklin hasn't kicked the door down yet." He slid his chair an inch or two closer, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. "So, Washington, right? D.C. or state? I wasn't really paying attention. In case you couldn't tell."

John snorted, looking at the teacher and pulling the paper back to him, writing in a somewhat annoyed fashion. "Yeah, that's not on you dude, she didn't exactly give me a world class introduction. Nothing important like telling people that I'm mute so that I don't get called an asshole." He slid the paper back to Dave, winking teasingly.

"Yeah, I'm not gonna apologize for that. You deserved it. Pretty sure that's something you mention pretty early in a conversation. Like, at the beginning. Don't blame me for your rude withholding of vital information. Ms. Green sucks, though. I'll give you that one." An 'I heard that' sounded from the teacher's desk and Dave blew her a kiss.

John sat up, holding out his hands and grinning incredulously before turning to the paper, scribbling furiously. "Please tell me when exactly I was supposed to tell you. I was just supposed to shove the paper at you with the words 'I'm a mute' on it? No introduction or anything? I did try and introduce myself first."

"Yeah, exactly. You just told yourself when you should've done it. I fail to see the problem with the plan you just presented me." Dave went on, hands waving in the air lazily to animate his words. "Anyway, you didn't answer the question. D.C. or state? I need to know if the good ol' southern heat is going to knock you out at lunch. I'll need time to prepare my knight-in-shining-armor act if I'm gonna catch you when you faint."

John paused, looking up at Dave and giving a begrudging smile, rolling his eyes, "State. But I'll be fine in the heat. Probably. Maybe. Hopefully." He paused and then added, "Save the faint-saving act for the winter, cause that's when it might happen," before sending the paper to Dave with a sheepish smile and huff of laughter.

Dave rolled his eyes and grinned. "I guess we'll see about the heat. Maybe I'll trip you so I can catch you anyway." He winked without realizing that John couldn't see it through the shades. "I'm going to take the fact that you didn't say anything about the lunch comment as a legally binding commitment to eat with me. No take-backs. Called it. You're stuck with me now."

John tilted his head, giving Dave a pointed look. "I'm taking that as a threat and I'm going to the pol...eat with you?" This was why writing on paper was a bit more troublesome because at least with his hands, people could see how he was feeling about certain things better than when he was writing. When he stopped to hesitate over something while writing, it just looked like he'd spaced out. "Can I trust you not to trip me?"

"Yeah." The blonde shrugged a shoulder. "I think I can manage not to intentionally trip you. So you'll come?" He waited a moment while John deliberated. "Come on, Egbert. Unless you want to shove your 'I'm a mute' paper at some new strange kids?"

John laughed again, forgetting to quiet himself, and he slapped a hand against his mouth. It always felt weird to have other people hear his laugh. He wasn't used to it being heard by anyone else. He cleared his throat and shrugged, sticking out his tongue quickly before biting on the end of the pen in thought. "Hmmm. I think I'll save myself the trouble and just shove it at this one strange kid. What class do you have before lunch? Where do we meet?"

Dave seemed to snap out of some thought, whipping his attention back to John with a grin. "Oh, am I the strange kid? Harsh, man. I thought we were bonding. I thought we had something special." He brought a hand to his forehead dramatically, sighing heavily. "I have biology. The study of life, man. It's interesting as fuck. I think I actually listened to ten whole minutes of the lesson last week. What do you have? I can just meet you at your classroom. If you want."

John smiled at Dave's antics and rolled his eyes. He looked back to the front of the class, only to find his eyes sliding back to the blonde almost instantly. Dammit. He bit his lip, trying to bite down the smile. "You _are_ the strange kid, Mr. I-wear-shades-indoors. Do you usually not pay attention in class?"

Dave sat back, the picture of mock-offense. "Hey, don't diss the shades. I know you're jealous and all. I would be, too. But that's no reason to hate." He shrugged, tucking his arms behind his head. "Nah, I don't have much patience for school. I'm never going to use any of this. Why waste my time? I have better things to do."

John snorted and scribbled a response of "What are you going to do that you don't need school for?" before holding up a finger, going into his book bag and pulling out a schedule. As he did, Dave slid closer to peer over his shoulder, and he got an unintentional whiff of the Strider. He smelled like confidence and clean sheets, which was the stupidest thing John had ever thought in his life. He shook it off and returned his attention to his class schedule. His eyes slid down to that hour and he quickly scribbled his answer, "I have studio piano that hour. Do you know where that is?"

"Uh...yeah. I chill in the music hall all the time. I'll meet you there." The bell rang then and Dave leaned back to stretch, giving John a sideways glance. "Do _you_ know where that is? Or do I have to be your tour guide?"

John looked back down at his schedule, scanning the unfamiliar room numbers and halls. This school seemed huge and clumsily built and all shoved together, and the only reason John had been lucky enough to find this room was that he'd gotten to school early and walked around for twenty minutes looking for it. He glanced back to Dave carefully; admitting that he didn't know was going to be embarrassing. He could always just walk around lost. No one would blame him since he was new. But…it was…alright, fine, he might've wanted to spend some more time with Dave. But only because John had never met someone like Dave before. Dave seemed totally uncaring of society's restraints, had his plan for his future firmly set in his head while John had no idea what he wanted to do, and…he might've also been really good-looking. So John worried his lower lip, one hand reaching up to rub the back of his neck as he hesitantly reached with his pen. "I don't…know. But I don't want to make you late for any of your classes."

Dave waved a dismissive hand. "We just established that I don't give a shit. Walk with me, Egbert."

The blonde gathered what little he had out on his desk and dumped it back into his backpack, slinging it over one shoulder. His music player went into his back pocket, headphones around his neck, and a hand through his blonde locks to sweep them casually to the side. He'd waited so long to answer the "what are you going to do with your life" question that John had more or less decided he just wasn't going to, but as they started walking out of the classroom together, Dave began to speak.

"I'm gonna make music," he said after a beat of hesitation. That moment's hesitation sent that question to the "to be asked later" pile. There was something more that Dave wasn't telling him. Maybe the blonde didn't have it as together as he appeared to, and that intrigued John. "I'm pretty good with a beat, and I can lay down some sick rhymes, let me tell you. I'd give you some right now if I wasn't afraid that your mind would implode. I gotta work you up to it. Baby steps, John. Baby steps."

For a moment, Dave focused on directing John through the clusterfuck that was the high school hallways. As they walked, John's eyes swept the hallway, taking note of everyone he saw. He was always self-conscious in big crowds because, for some reason, he always thought that people could just tell that there was something wrong with him, that he couldn't talk. He subconsciously walked a bit closer to Dave, thankful to have found someone right off who didn't mind that he was weird.

Dave piped up again, nudging John to the left to get him to turn down a slightly less crowded hallway. "Hey. Dumb question, but how do you talk to people when you don't have a piece of paper?"

John looked up at him and smiled, tapping his arm to make sure that he watched and quickly signed, "I use sign language, if they know it." Then he rolled his eyes, miming writing it down, trying to tell Dave that he'd tell him later. He looked away in thought before looking back to Dave, eyebrow raised curiously and he raised his hands, miming texting. He could always text it to Dave.

"Oh, duh. Signing. That makes sense. Maybe I should learn." Dave watched, amused, as John mimed using his phone. "Texting? Damn, John. If you wanted my number, all you had to do was ask." He slid his phone from his pocket and handed it over just as they reached John's classroom. "Here, put your number in. I'll text you when I get to class."

John took Dave's phone, typed in his number, and stopped at his name, trying to decide what he should put. He considered something dumb and then shook his head; it was still way too early in the friendship to show Dave his true colors. He'd play it safe, put the blonde at ease, and once he was in too deep to back away John would trap him in a web of weird. He saved it under John Egbert and handed it back to Dave with a smile, miming texting again and jabbing a thumb at himself in what he hoped was a playfully silly way of telling the blonde to text him.

"Yeah, yeah. I'll text you." The bell rang, and Dave turned to leave. "Shouldn't you be in class, Egbert?" His voice was stern, but he grinned and winked, waving over his shoulder as he walked away.

John blinked in surprise at the grin and wink, and no, that was _not_ warmth creeping into his cheeks, and no, that was _not_ a little jump his heart had just given. He watched the blonde walk off before turning to his class, grinning and shaking his head. He felt much better about walking into this one. Maybe it was because he'd made a friend, or maybe it was because as he walked in he felt his phone vibrate and knew it was Dave, and that acted like an encouraging push, but this time when he stood in front of the class, he smiled, raising his hand before the teacher dismissed him and writing on the board that he was mute. He capped the marker, looking at the words with a trembling exhale before turning around hesitantly. No one was looking at him in disgust. It was curiosity that burned in their eyes instead of hatred, and curiosity John was completely okay with.

He took a seat next to a girl in the back. She introduced herself as the blind girl also known as Terezi, and the fact that she was blind and he was mute made him laugh for the rest of the class period. As it turned out, Terezi knew sign language, so for the entire class, they pressed the signs for "mute guy and a blind girl" jokes into each other's palms, always dissolving into giggles before they could reach the punch line, and he was happy, really happy, for the first time since he boarded the plane to Texas and away from everything he'd known.


	2. TG: Learn sign language

**Author's Note: **Chapters focused on John's perspective are mostly written by lovemahBF. Chapters focused on Dave's perspective are mostly written by Stuckkie.

**TG: Learn sign language**

Holy shit, sign language was hard. None of this made any kind of sense. It made so little sense that it didn't surprise Dave that it was created for someone who didn't _have_ one of their senses and suddenly he was laughing harder than he had in a while and feeling guilty about it. God, that was a terrible joke, and one he would _not_ be sharing with John.

Okay, focus.

No, too late. He was done with this for the day. He chose one of the books to take home with him and put the rest back on the shelf. The remainder of the class period was spent with his feet up on the table listening to his music and ignoring the dirty looks the librarian shot his way. Five minutes before the lunch bell, he checked the book out and walked the empty halls until he was standing outside John's classroom. He spent a good thirty seconds arranging himself against the wall so he looked cool and collected, and then the bell rang and his stomach flipped. Nervous? Of course he wasn't. Totally not.

John strolled into the hallway, looking about himself curiously. At first he apparently didn't see Dave and stood there with his hands tugging on the bottom of his shirt, but eventually it occurred to him to look left and Dave gave a little wave.

"Did your phone go off when I texted you? I was kinda hoping you had some dumb ringtone that would go off while you were standing in front of everyone."

John took a few steps closer to Dave, taking out his phone and quickly typing, "It was on vibrate." Dave went for his back pocket a little more quickly than he cared to admit and read the text.

"Aw, damn. And I tried so hard." It was weird how his not-nervousness totally disappeared as soon as John was actually next to him. Was that weird? He'd have to ask-oh, speak of the devil. "Yo, Terezi!" He called the greeting to her back as she made her way down the hall. She waved over her shoulder and kept going, heading for the home ec room where she spent most of her lunch periods for whatever reason. "That's Terezi. She's a friend. I should introduce you. She'd like you. You're both dorks."

John looked over his shoulder at Terezi and started to laugh again, staggering over to lean against the lockers beside Dave as he gasped for air. He bit his lip as he got his phone out again, trying his best to text coherently. "A mute guy and a…blind girl sit in a class…we kept signing that to each other throughout the entire time, we laughed too hard to think of an actual joke for it."

"Oh, you already met her. Figures." He watched John laugh himself into the lockers with an amused smirk. "Dude, it's really not that funny. Maybe if you actually finished it, but as it is, I don't even think it really qualifies as a joke. By all means, keep laughing, but do you think you could laugh and walk at the same time? I dunno about you, but I'm hungry."

He pushed off from the wall and tucked his hands into his pockets, jerking his head in the general direction of the cafeteria. John shook his head, texting as he walked. "It's just ridiculous, 'cause you think this school would put us in some special program or something. But here we are, a mute kid and a blind girl."

"That is definitely a program that I'd pay a small amount of money to see. You and Terezi fucking around in a class by yourselves. You'd probably pretend to be handicap or something stupid."

While waiting for his next text, he pointed a few rooms out to John-the art room, the gym, the bathroom he'd once flooded accidentally-until he realized that the brunet wasn't even paying attention. He looked lost in his thoughts or something. Whatever, it was cute. He gripped John's elbow lightly to turn him into the cafeteria and made a grand sweeping gesture with his other hand.

"Welcome to the cafeteria, home of the infamous mystery meatloaf and oddly enough the best fried chicken you'll ever eat."

John grinned at Dave's antics, reaching and putting a hand on his wrist to try and push down his hand, nodding to let Dave know he was listening. It was a seamless transition from John trying to push his hand down to Dave actually taking the other's hand in his to lead him to the end of the lunch line. It might have been the smoothest thing he'd ever done.

"What do you usually get?" John texted.

"Whatever looks the least unappealing. Looks like today it's gonna be pizza. I try to save the fried chicken for special occasions. I have my figure to look after, you know." He set a hand on his hip and tossed his head back, striking a pose before laughing and pushing John ahead of him. "But you should definitely give it a try."

He got trays for the both and nudged John along as they moved through the line. He ended up sweet-talking the lunch lady out of two slices of pizza instead of one, and added to it a little cup of diced peaches. At the end, he picked up a carton of apple juice and showed it to John.

"Best. Shit. Ever," he said, setting it on his tray with a decisive nod.

John got exactly what Dave did, but with a bottle of water instead of juice, and stood to the side waiting. Dave laughed.

"What, you need me to pick a table for you, too?" he teased. He jerked his head to the side with a grin. "Come on. My usual table's in the back." He led the way, sliding into his seat in the corner with a content sigh. "Ah, lunch time. Best period of the whole day if you ask me."

The brunet followed him to the table and slid into the seat opposite of him, if somewhat hesitantly. He stuck out his tongue in concentration, unzipping his book bag and taking out his notebook and pencil. "What class did I make you late for? Did you get in trouble?" Dave popped open his juice and took a long swig before leaning over to read the note.

"Biology. I didn't get in trouble." Can't get in trouble if you never show up. "It's not a big deal, or I wouldn't have done it. How was class, besides finding your humor soulmate?"

He took the time he had waiting for John's reply to begin eating, stacking the two pieces on top of each other and eating them as if they were one. John started to write a response and then stopped, pen slowing as he watched Dave eat the two slices at once. He crossed out his old response and started a new one. "Wouldn't it be better to eat them…separately? One at a time?"

"Why?" The word was muffled, spoken around a mouthful of pizza. He swallowed and chased it down with a swig of juice. "Twice the pizza in half the time, man."

"What if you choke? Twice the food." John slid the notebook back over, raising his own piece and taking a bite, eyes sweeping over the cafeteria curiously.

"Your point is valid. I'm going to ignore it," he replied, taking another big bite.

John snorted, rolling his eyes. "I don't know how well I'd be able to give the Heimlich maneuver, but I'll try regardless."

"You're so good to me," Dave teased.

John took another bite, opening his bottle and drinking from it, and for a moment they ate in silence. Then the brunet reached for his notebook again-"Jeez, is this like a model school? Everyone here is really attractive."-and Dave had to stop and look around. Were they? He'd never really noticed. He hated most of them anyway.

"They're alright, I guess. Almost everyone here falls into either the douchenozzle category or the just-plain-stupid category. Besides..." Was it too early to say this? "No one here holds a candle to this new kid who just transferred in."

The words left his mouth and he immediately stuffed it with pizza to prevent anything else stupid from slipping out. John blinked and looked down at his lap, smiling. He glanced up at Dave, chewing on his cheek and decidedly grabbed his notebook again. "Is there a new student besides me? Cause if you're referring to me, then I guess I should say that in my opinion, this guy in shades is pretty okay looking too. Well…he is from what I can see. Unless he has toad eyes. Do you have toad eyes?"

Oh, good. John smiled. If he would smile forever, it wouldn't be long enough. Or something. Wow, that was corny. Dave read the first part of the note, and started talking before he could get to the last part.

"No, just you. You, John Egbert, are cute."

And then he got to the rest of it, and laughed. "I don't have toad eyes, dude. What does that even mean?"

He _really_ didn't want to do the eye thing right now. It tended to freak people out and that was the last thing he needed. John looked up helplessly, shrugging and grabbing the notebook back. "I don't know, just making sure you don't have literal toad eyes." He slid it over, grinning, and almost immediately snatched the notebook back to add, "And I am not, shut up."

"Is literal toad eyes a real thing?" he asked. He might have been genuinely curious. He might have been planning on looking this up when he got home. The sudden snatch startled him, but he recovered quickly, leaning clear across the table to read as John wrote. When the message was finished, Dave looked up into John's eyes and raised his eyebrows as far as they would go. "Are you calling me a liar?"

John leaned back a bit as Dave moved in. "I ain't callin' you a truther."

"Rude. I'm beginning to think you really are an asshole."

He said it seriously, but a smile twitched at the corners of his lips. Sitting back in his seat, he crossed his arms across his chest and it suddenly occurred to him that John had complimented him in return. His face reacted before he could stop it, red creeping up his cheeks. Well, damn. He coughed self-consciously and looked away. John leaned forward, grabbing Dave's chin with his hand and gesturing with his other hand to the blonde's face. Dave didn't need to know sign language to know that John was talking about his new cheek color.

"What about it? Jesus...do they not have blushes in Washington?"

The contact and closeness only made the blush worse. God dammit. God. Dammit. He wanted to pull away, but he also really didn't. Shit. John stuck out his tongue and let go of Dave to clap delightedly, motioning at his cheeks again before rushing to scribble out a note. "You blush! Also you have freckles! Did you know?"

"Of course I know. It's my face. I'm pretty fond of my face."

Dave rubbed at his cheeks self-consciously anyway. 'You're really cute when you get excited' was what he wanted to say, but for whatever reason the words just stuck in his throat. It probably had something to do with the fact that this dumb new kid made him blush. Who did this John Egbert think he was? John continued writing. "So besides Terezi, who else do you like in this school? I trust your opinion of people."

Dave shrugged, glad for the subject change. "I don't exactly have a lot of friends. I'm more of a loner. Karkat's decent, I guess. He's fun to fuck with." He tapped at his chin thoughtfully. "Oh, you might like Jade. She doesn't actually go here. She's homeschooled. But they let her come for the extracurricular stuff or something like that."

John crinkled his brow. "'Karkat'? What the hell is with the names here?"

"Dude, don't even ask. I have no idea. Don't bring it up, either. Terezi's pretty okay with it, but Karkat will flip his shit." His eyes flashed mischievously and he added, "Like you're one to talk. What kind of name is Egbert?"

John threw his hands up in disbelief before leaning down, furiously scribbling. "That's not my first name though! My dad can't help my last name much more than he can his! But he was deliberately named Karkat. That's the weirdest name I've ever heard in my life."

"Try telling _him_ that. I dare you. It'll be hilarious." Or terrifying. Or both. Definitely both. Confident that he wasn't going to have his face grabbed again, he leaned forward to brace his elbow on the table, resting his chin on his hand. "Jeez, and I thought Southern people were supposed to be the judgmental ones."

"Hey, we fought against you in the civil war. I was on the 'no slavery' side. My good-person quota has been met. No, no, but I'm not judging! It's just a weird name! But I won't tell him that. A guy with a name like that has nothing to lose. I wouldn't test him."

Dave feigned shocked disbelief. "Whoa, now. Don't bring slavery into it, man. You're hittin' on some touchy material here. Too soon, John. Too soon." He held a straight face for a moment before letting a smile spread across his face. Man, he'd been smiling a lot today. "Just kidding. But seriously, don't bring slavery into things. I can't promise you won't get shot. Maybe by Karkat, who knows? Guy's got a temper like no one else's. When anger management groups go camping, they tell stories about Karkat's temper instead of ghost stories."

"No what, of course I'd never bring slavery into things. Only this one time ever and only with you." John reassured Dave, nodding and tapping the paper emphatically.

"I'm honored," Dave laughed.

The bell rang to let students know they had five minute to get to class. John started, hopping up to pile his trash onto his tray, but Dave didn't move, instead tapping at the table a few times.

"Hey, what would you say if I proposed skipping the rest of the day?"

John slowed in his motions and grinned. "I'd say Terezi was right that you were a bad influence and that I shouldn't talk to you. What would we do, if we weren't in this great institution of knowledge?"

"Oh, what? She said that? Harsh. And completely unwarranted. I'm a great influence." He got to his feet, figuring he wasn't likely to talk John into it. "I dunno. Go back to my place and chill? I could show you around town or something."

John gave a slow, hesitant smile. "...I guess I could manage without English for one day." Dave had prepared himself for rejection, so when he got the opposite, it took him a second to process.

"Wait, really? You...really?" _Get it together. You sound like an idiot._ "Sweet. Did you drive here or are you catching a ride with me?"

"Dad insisted on driving me the first day, so it looks like I'm catching a ride with you." John pushed the notebook to him as he stood up, collecting his plate and things to throw away.

"Perfect. Okay, here's how this works. They monitor the student parking lot during class changes, so we'll have to make a run for it. Don't stop no matter what. If I fall, you keep going. I know they all say 'no man left behind' but you better leave this man behind, got it? I won't have you risking your life for me." The look on John's face informed him that oops he was being weird again. "It's really not that bad. Just walk like you're supposed to be there and follow my lead, okay?" He took the tray from John's hand and dumped them both into the trashcan by the back door before pulling out his keys and swinging them around a finger. "Ready?"

The brunet nodded, following him to the backdoor. He looked around once, casually, and saw that, so far, no one suspected them of anything. He looked to Dave. "Ready," he mouthed, and off they went. They did pass by a couple of teachers on the way out, but surprisingly no one said a thing. Maybe that was just because Dave was known for this sort of thing.

"So far so good," he muttered.

He pushed the door leading to the parking lot open with his back, holding it for John. He held up a hand to point up the row to a little red two-door, unlocking it with the clicker as soon as they were in range. John brushed Dave's upper arm with a hand, pointing a finger up at the sky once he had Dave's attention and moving his hand in a wide circle. "You do this often?" he mouthed slowly.

"You...do...this...often?" Dave repeated as he read John's lips. He scratched at the back of his head and shrugged. "If I say yes, are you going to think I'm some kind of delinquent? Because yes. Yes, I do."

He hoped he wasn't about to lose points for that, but he didn't see the point in lying. John clapped his hands to his chest, looking at Dave in mock-horror before waving a hand and grinning at him. He shrugged, holding up his pointer finger and thumb a little ways apart. Only a little bit of a delinquent.

"You're into the bad-boy type, aren'tcha." Dave wiggled his eyebrows before opening the door and sliding in.

John's eyes narrowed in a glare as he opened the passenger door and slid in, swinging his book bag onto the floor. He instantly moved to grab his notebook out of his bag. "Are you a good driver or are these my last moments of life?" Dave let out a short laugh, turning the car on and putting it into reverse.

"Dunno. You tell me," he said, and he peeled out of the parking lot.


	3. TG: Take John back to your place

**Author's Note: **Chapters focused on John's perspective are mostly written by lovemahBF. Chapters focused on Dave's perspective are mostly written by Stuckkie.

**TG: Take John back to your place**

As Dave swung out of the parking lot, clutching at the steering wheel to keep himself in his seat, John gasped raggedly, letting out a hoarse, tiny squeak of surprise as one hand went to grab Dave's arm, the other flying to the seat below him. Once they were righted, he glared fiercely, raising the hand from Dave's arm and using it to smack the blonde.

"Ow, ow! Don't hit the driver! Don't you know anything about road safety?" Dave bit back a smile, holding up his elbow to fend off any further attacks.

"You're an asshole," John mouthed, and while Dave missed the words, he definitely got the sentiment.

"I know, I know. Sorry, I couldn't resist. I'll be good."

John grinned, held up his middle finger for Dave to see, and sat back in his seat, crossing his arms as if he were still mad. Dave swallowed a grin, focused on the road for a little while. When they finally hit a red light, Dave tapped out a beat on the steering wheel until John reached over to tap his shoulder, holding up his hands in a questioning gesture once he knew those shades were turned in his direction.

Dave started guiltily. "Oh, fuck, right. We didn't decide what we're doing. Tour of town or my place?"

John looked to the front, tapping his chin in thought, and then grinned, turning to Dave and holding up two fingers. He tilted his head to the right and smiled at Dave curiously, mouthing, "Why not both?"

"Both? Okay, sure. Which one first?"

It made more sense to drive around town while they were already out, but the later they went back to Dave's place, the more of a chance there was that Bro would be home and just no. There was all of a two percent chance that Bro would behave himself, and Dave didn't really like those odds. He would let John decide, though, because if he said anything about it John would be curious. Curious about Bro was not a thing he wanted John to be. John hummed in thought, looking at Dave carefully. He took so long that Dave's attention began to drift-_this is the longest red light I've ever seen, damn-_before he grinned, leaning forward to poke Dave's chest.

"My place? Aw, yes. Prepare yourself, Egbert. You're not ready for the Strider residence."

Dave took a left and headed away from downtown, pointing a few things out here and there as they passed, not that he expected John to remember any of it. He parked in the lot for his building and led the way into the elevator, hitting the button for the top floor. He chatted about nothing the whole way up, hands shoved deep into his pockets, and when they stepped out of the elevator and up to the door, he paused for dramatic effect before throwing it open.

"Welcome to my crib, yo."

The door opened on the living room, and it occurred to Dave that the place was pretty messy. Oops. There were wires all over the floor, a futon, a huge TV and of course the puppets. Puppets everywhere. Puppets on the floor, on the couch, hanging from the ceiling fan. John looked wide-eyed at the felt abominations, face contorting into an easily readable "what the fuck." Dave deposited his keys on the little table by the door and pushed his shades up to rub his eyes while John wasn't looking. Once they were back in place, he stepped up to try and gauge John's reaction by his facial expression. It was hilarious, to say the least. Dave cleared his throat and shrugged.

"They're puppets, man. Don't ask. You don't want to know. It's the sort of thing you could and should go the rest of your life without knowing. I must preserve your innocence, John." The wires, though. That was something he could share. He grinned and waved a hand. "Come on, follow me."

John turned to follow, giving the puppets another wary glance as they passed. Down the hall, Dave opened the door to his room and placed his hand at the small of John's back to push him inside.

"This is my room. Try to contain your excitement." He pointed at various objects around the room, naming them off. "Computer, awesome dead things, mixing table..." Then, just to be an ass, he started naming off obvious things. "Bed, window, closet. You know. The usual."

John looked eagerly around the room, nodding to himself. He pointed to the dead things, making a hesitant face and curling his arms to his chest. "Are they really dead?"

"Huh?" The message didn't quite translate. Something about his dead things. It better be something nice about his dead things. "Come here, get a closer look. They're pretty sweet."

John put a hand out to stop Dave, looking at him patiently and pointing, "Are…they…real?"

"Are they...? Yeah, of course they are. What would be the point in fake dead things?" Man, sign language was looking more and more appealing.

John made another hesitant face, scooting closer and pointing, once again raising his hands in question. "What...are...they?"

"That's a scorpion, that one's a centipede...that's a piglet in the jar there." He pointed, his hand once again at the small of John's back to guide him closer. "They're not gonna bite, you know."

Curiously, the brunet inspected the shelves, leaning back just a bit to keep his distance. John liked the dead things, score. It was written all over his face, the face that Dave was watching because he'd already seen the dead things-obviously-but then John was twisting to look up at Dave. He started guiltily when he was caught staring, but John didn't seem to actually notice. Instead, he was pointing to the mess of wires on the floor. He should really get around to organizing those or something, but he thought they gave the room character. And he was lazy. Just a little bit.

"That's for my equipment." He pointed around the room at various machines. "It's how I lay down sick beats, man. I am a god and these are the materials with which I create new worlds."

John grinned, laughing silently, and shooed Dave toward the table, mouthing, "Play, play."

"Oh, what, now?" Why was he nervous? This was his element. The one thing he was best at. "Sure, okay. Sit..." He looked to the desk chair. A pile of puppets looked back. "...on the bed. I'll set everything up."

There wasn't much to set up, but he pretended to mask his nerves. He set his headphones around his neck again and started up a simple beat. Nothing too fancy. Didn't want to explode John's mind just yet. Jesus fuck why was he so nervous?

"Here goes," he said, more to himself than to John, and he dove into the song.

His hands moved quickly and easily over the equipment. As the bass filled the room, he was vaguely aware that John started to sway to it, and that was the last thought he had about anything outside of his little sphere of emotion or whatever. The problem with playing for other people was that he often lost himself in the music. He once left Terezi sitting at his desk for nearly forty minutes. When he finally turned around she was drawing particularly shitty comics with his computer and he'd nearly jumped out of his skin in fright. It took him a solid year to hear the end of it. He was determined not to do the same with John. Once he reached a place he was comfortable with, he looped the track, glanced over his shoulder to see how John was reacting, and promptly fell the fuck over, catching his headphone cord and knocking a bunch of shit down in what had to be the least graceful thing in the history of forever.

"Bro! What the fuck are you doing in my room?!"

Dave scrambled to his feet, shades hanging from one ear. He should've seen this coming, dammit. There sat the smug bastard, arm around John, and at Dave's accusation Bro's smirk only grew.

"Hey, little man. I have it on good authority that school doesn't get out for another hour. Care to explain why you're home?"

"No! I don't! Get out, oh my god!"'

"Don't be rude, Dave. I raised you better than that. Who's your cute little friend?" He tightened his arm around John's shoulder and gave him a little shake.

John, for his part, looked totally appalled, glancing back and forth between Dave and Bro with an expression that screamed "get him off me!" He wiggled back a little bit so he could turn to face the older man. Bro turned when John did and smirked, sliding his shades down and winking.

"Hiya. Names Bro. Bro Strider. But you can call me daddy."

John's face lit up in flaming blush as his jaw dropped, and Dave groaned.

"Bro! You're freaking him out, knock it off!"

He shoved his shades back onto his face and stepped forward to grab John by the wrists and haul him up from the bed. He slung an arm protectively around the brunet and pointed at Bro. "This is John. He's new, and I want to be his friend, so please, for the love of god, don't be weird."

"When am I ever weird?" Bro stood and stretched his arms above his head.

"All the fucking time, you puppet-porn freak." Dave glared at him, making shooing motions with the hand hanging off John's shoulder.

"Hey, I'll leave when I'm good and ready. Last I checked, I pay the rent." Bro held out a gloved hand. "Nice to meet you, John. I'm not kidding about the daddy thing. Come find me when you get bored of Dave."

He winked again. Dave grabbed the nearest puppet and threw it at him. He dodged it with a simple dip of the shoulders without withdrawing his hand. John glanced at Dave, unsure, then back to Bro. He stretched out his hand and took Bro's, giving a surprised squeak as he was pulled from the safety of Dave's arms and towards Bro, who held up an arm and flexed, watching as John's eyes widened. _Give him back, give him back, give him baaaack_, Dave chanted in his mind, hands clenching by his side. He considered a barrage of puppet ass, but the last thing he wanted was for John to be caught in that. The therapy would last for years.

"You know, not only am I older and more experienced, but all that sweet cash flow is going directly to me. I don't mind a gold digger now and then, especially not one as cute as-" John slapped Bro's hand away as it went to cup his chin, and Bro stared at him in total shock for a few seconds before smirking. "Feisty. I like this one," he said, letting John go and watching as he instantly went to Dave's side, clutching onto the fabric of his shirt and sticking out his tongue, retracting it when the older man snapped his teeth flirtatiously. "So, mind telling me what you're doing home so early?"

"Okay, you got me. We're not really here. We're alien clones sent to infiltrate your sweetass apartment and steal the secrets to your success. Lucky for you, we're both thoroughly horrified by what we found. Unlucky for you, we'll be reporting you to child protective services immediately. What the fuck do you think we're doing home early?"

Bro shook his head sadly. "Skipping school. Thought I taught you better. You know every time you do that I get an earful from the principal, right?"

"Like you give a shit." Dave's arm wrapped around John's shoulders again, hand rubbing against his upper arm in a way he hoped was soothing.

Bro gave him an up-and-down, scoffing and looking off to the side. "Right, but I gotta at least try and pretend to be a good guardian. Especially when I'm trying out for daddy position with little John here."

"You're an amazing guardian. The perfect guardian. Know why? Because you leave me the fuck alone. And knock it off with the daddy thing. Seriously. It's not even a little bit attractive."

The older man smirked and jabbed a thumb at John. "Is he just made chill or…why doesn't the cutie speak?"

Dave glanced down at John, searching his eyes for...something. "He's the chillest dude alive, but if you _must_ know, he doesn't speak. Can't speak would be more accurate. He's mute is what I'm getting at."

Way to make it awkward.

Bro turned to John, and John waited with bated breath to see what new ridiculous thing would come spewing out of his mouth this time. But John's eyebrows flew up as Bro signed at him, "You sign?"

John nodded excitedly, lifting his hands to sign back, "Yes! I do! Why do you?"

Bro smirked, glancing at Dave and speaking out loud as he signed, "Just that cool."

"Oh. My. God." Dave's arm dropped as he felt John move away from him to free his hands for signing. "You have _got_ to be fucking kidding me." Bro was going to steal John away before he even stood a chance, the little shit. "Why the _fuck_ do you know sign language?! And don't say it's because you're cool, because you are most certainly not cool." It wasn't fair, dammit. It was the furthest thing from fair. It took fair and threw it off a bridge into a stinking river of cruel injustice. "John." He fought to keep the whine from his voice. "Come on. You can't be buying this."

John looked to Bro. "Buy what?"

Bro let out an amused huff of laughter, looking to Dave. "This kid is actually pretty fuckin' cute."

John scowled. "Don't call me cute."

Bro rolled his eyes. "Cut it out, princess modest. Why else do you think Dave brought you back here?"

John blinked, glancing at Dave. "Cause I'm…'the chillest person ever'?" Bro laughed really hard and shook his head, and John pouted, waving his hand in the air to erase his previous signing, moving his hand in a counter-clockwise circle to show he wanted to go back. "Could you teach Dave?"

Oh, god, it wasn't fair. Dave was trying. He knew how to sign the alphabet! Well. Part of the alphabet. A small amount of the alphabet. A couple of letters. But he was trying, didn't that count for anything? God damn. And it didn't help that Bro was being a bigger ass than usual and _not fucking talking_. John kept looking at him. The first time looked happy, and he tried his best to return the smile. The second time looked...confused? Concerned? God dammit, he would never take communication for granted again. This was frustrating as hell. Finally, John pointed to him and he thought he was being included, but no. John was still talking to Bro. And it was the last straw.

"_What_ are you fucking _saying_?" he demanded.

In the silence the followed his outburst, he realized just how loud he'd said it. John stared at him and even Bro looked a little bit concerned in his own way. It wasn't like Dave to do...whatever the hell that just was. He took a step back and shoved a hand into his hair.

"...Shit."

His every instinct screamed at him to get away, and his body reacted before his mind could catch up. He didn't stop until he was up the stairs and on the roof with nowhere else to go.


	4. EB: Calm Dave Down

**Author's Note: **Chapters focused on John's perspective are mostly written by lovemahBF. Chapters focused on Dave's perspective are mostly written by Stuckkie.

**EB: Calm Dave down**

Suddenly, Dave was yelling and John was clasping his hands to his chest in surprise, looking at Dave worriedly. What? What had he done? Had they-then he realized that Bro hadn't been speaking out loud and that they'd just been completely excluding Dave, and he turned with an indignant glare to Bro.

"Why didn't you-" and then Dave was flying out of the room and John gasped, clapping a hand over his mouth and watching as the door hit the wall behind it, bouncing back until it was almost completely closed. He stared at it for a second; loud noises had always shocked him into useless stupors. Finally he forced himself to move, scrambling after Dave and tripping, catching himself by grabbing onto Bro. The older man let him go with no flirting. He ran out, trying to decipher which way Dave had gone and then another door slammed shut, a door higher up, and John took the stairs leading up to the roof, hoping he was right. Fuck, what was Dave doing on the roof?! He reached the door, glancing back down at the steep stairs and then pushed the door open and sighed in relief as he found the blonde sitting sullenly, like a child pouting.

He let the door close behind him as he stared nervously at Dave's back, hands at his chest and tugging at the collar of his shirt. Then he shuffled forwards a few steps. Then a few more, trying to plan his next move as he panted from the running and the adrenaline and tried to catch his breath. Finally, he stood right behind Dave and he swallowed shallowly, walking slowly around him until he stood facing him. Dave sat with his legs crossed, one hand in his lap and the other supporting his chin, elbow braced on his knee. John lowered into a sit, crossing his legs Indian style and looking at Dave worriedly. He glanced towards the blonde's hand and reached out, hesitating and trying to decide if Dave would be okay with being touched, and gently grasped his wrist. He pulled it out from his lap, slowly opened his fist until his fingers were splayed, and with one hand reached down and traced an "A" in the dirt on the roof. Dave didn't resist when John took his hand, lifting his head just a bit to see what John wrote. Then the brunet brought the hand up again and did the sign against Dave's palm slowly, watching him and repeating it a few more times before opening his own fist and waiting for Dave to do it back. The blonde sat up a little straighter and pressed the sign into John's waiting palm. He glanced up for confirmation that he'd done it right and then switched to the sign for "B" without being prompted.

John grinned delightedly down at his hand before he looked up at Dave's face and positively beamed at him, nodding his head enthusiastically. This was how he'd been calmed down by his father. His dad would come over and sit in front of him while he sobbed and gently press letters into his palms until John did it back. Slowly and very carefully, he went through the entire alphabet with Dave, sometimes going back to a letter they'd covered previously to see if Dave was retaining any of this. And, to his surprise, Dave was. It might take him a few seconds, where he'd set his jaw in that thoughtful way that definitely wasn't super attractive and then eventually press it back into John's hand. John, at the end, grabbed Dave's hand in both of his and squeezed it tightly, lifting it and pressing it to his cheek in a form of congratulations, nodding fervently.

He released Dave's hands to sign, "Are you okay?" while slowly mouthing it and repeating so that Dave could learn that phrase.

Dave repeated the question a few times for the sake of muscle memory before answering. He almost responded with a 'Yeah, dude. I'm fine,' but instead he hesitantly signed what he remembered as 'yes' from the book he'd taken from the library, hoping to god it was right.

John nodded at that, raising his own fist and waggling it back at Dave, grinning happily. For some reason when Dave signed at him, it made him happy. He could hear Dave's voice when he signed and he liked that.

"What happened?" he signed, just as slowly so that Dave could get used to seeing it, all the while mouthing the words and pointing behind Dave for extra measure.

Dave repeated that phrase, too, hands working on their own, his face stiffening in concentration as he tried to think of a way to explain.

"I don't usually shout like that. In case you couldn't tell." He spoke quietly, looking to the side. "I don't know, man. I just...you and Bro were talking, and I couldn't. Not like I couldn't think of anything to say or anything like that. I was physically incapable of understanding. It's weird, and it sucks. And I knew, I _knew_, that Bro was just being an asshole like always, but for some reason it just made me so angry." His hands balled into fists on his lap. He took a deep breath, and when he released it he reached for John's hand again without thinking. "Anyway, I panicked. I'm supposed to be the cool kid, right? Fuck emotions and all that shit. Who needs 'em? Not me. Except, you know…yeah."

As Dave talked, John rested his cheek against his knees and listened attentively, feeling extremely guilty. He'd been too caught up in the excitement to realize that Bro wasn't talking out loud for Dave to hear and he hadn't been helping either, just shooting these glances at Dave that must've been infuriatingly frustrating. He blinked, looking down as Dave slipped his fingers underneath John's hand and held it. It wasn't an unpleasant feeling-far from it, his heart actually gave a quiet little leap at it-but it was unexpected. He didn't pull back or let on that he was surprised, merely wrapped his fingers around Dave's hand and held it while he talked, audibly sorting through his thoughts. Fuck, this would been easier if he could talked; he could reassure Dave that having feelings was completely okay and that he needed to express them and that everything was fine.

But Dave didn't know enough sign language for any of that and it would be too much trouble to write it out in the dirt or mouth it to him. So John pulled back, raising his free hand in a fist and putting it to his chest, rubbing it in a circular motion while furrowing his eyebrows. "Sorry." How do you comfort someone without words? Then John hesitantly raised his arms, nodding at Dave in question. "Hug?"

Dave nodded at the apology. "Me, too." But at the offer of a hug, he hesitated. He was already sharing more emotional bullshit with John than he'd ever really expected to, already making enough of a fool of himself to Bro, already holding Egbert's hand. He didn't need the hug. He didn't. He was fine. The whole dumb event was in the past, and it was probably best if they just let it go. But this was John and John was somehow different, and he really felt like it would be okay for John to know that he wasn't as put together as he tried to seem. Time ticked on and he fought with himself over it until John began to look put out and lower his arms.

Okay, so the hug had apparently been a stupid thing to suggest. John's cheeks were already beginning to burn with mortification as Dave just stared at him. Jesus Christ, had he seriously offered Dave a hug? Like they were five year olds on a playground? Stupid idea, stupid John, stupid everything! He was snapped out these self-depreciating thoughts as Dave stood suddenly, looking up to follow Dave's path before he felt a pressure on his arm and realized that Dave meant to pull him up too. He scrambled to his feet, looking wide-eyed at Dave who looked back at him. Did he look angry? Did he look sad? John wished to god he could just tear the shades off of Dave, because the slightly downturned mouth told him nothing about what the blonde felt.

Whatever Dave had been doing or looking for, he'd evidently found it because he lowered his head, his chin brushing John's shoulder as he felt his arms slide over his hips and holy shit this had been a mistake. Not because of anything Dave did but because suddenly breathing was a little difficult for John. And he wasn't sure if Dave was talking or not, he couldn't hear anything with the way the blood rushed in his ears while his heart pumped what felt like ice-water through his veins. _Hug back, you idiot!_ he scolded himself, and blindly, through the haze, he slid his arms up to wrap around Dave's neck, hugging him firmly.

"Come on, dude. You offer a hug and then don't even hug back? What kind of bullshit is tha-oh, there you go."

John gave Dave's back a swat while he scoffed. _Don't order me to hug, I'll hug when I'm ready,_ he thought stubbornly, smiling as he turned his face slightly towards Dave's neck. He smelled like…Old Spice for some reason. It surprised him, though it was nice, but then he remembered how fucking random the Old Spice commercials were and then it made sense that the Striders would endorse that.

The timeframe for "normal buddy comforting" hug came and went, and John didn't particularly care. The hug was nice. Dave was a little stiff-though John could tell it was from lack of practice-and he was warm. And it was Dave hugging him, which was pretty damn exciting in itself. He was content to stay there until he heard a click, and when he looked over Dave's shoulder, Bro was standing there with a camera, smirk on his lips.

"Don't tell me I missed the kiss."

Dave didn't look surprised in the slightest to see Bro when he tilted his head back to glance behind. He released John as casually as he could, taking a step back and returning his hands to their usual place deep in his pockets.

"You are by far the worst thing that has ever happened to me, Bro. Including the time I got food poisoning from that weird-ass sushi place you found downtown and the year no one came to my birthday party because you put goddamn smuppet ass on the invitations. And both of those were your fault, so I hate you twice as much." He glanced over at John with an apologetic half-shrug.

John, however, was used to Bro by now. It was a partly forced comfortableness because he knew that it mortified Dave, but he was used to him nonetheless. "Stop torturing him so much," he signed, giving Bro a stern expression.

"Sorry, but after seventeen years of me raising him, I'm not gonna stop giving him shit just cause a cutie says so," Bro signed back, this time speaking out loud for Dave. This one was interesting. His eyes flickered to Dave, then back to John. He liked this one. John rolled his eyes, signing some very unsavory words for the older Strider who was momentarily surprised before pointing at him and looking to Dave. "You won't believe the hands on this one. Get it. Cause it's usually 'mouth on this one,' but now it's 'hands on this one'."

Dave rolled his eyes. "Jokes aren't funny if you have to explain them. Duh." A quick glance over at John let Dave flash a grateful smile for standing up for him and he tucked John under his arm snugly. "Whatever he sai-signed, you deserved it. Hey, can John stay for dinner? And by 'can John stay for dinner' I mean 'John's staying for dinner'. And by 'dinner' I mean 'can we order pizza because I'm pretty sure what little food is in the fridge has long since stopped being edible what kind of guardian are you, god'."

John gave a quiet chuckle to which Bro raised his pointed finger again and walked forward a few steps. "Hey, wait. You just made noise." John nodded at that and Bro gestured impatiently. "Do it again." Unsure, John glanced at Dave and then gave a hesitant laugh to which Bro rubbed his chin. "That's very interesting. So you still can make some noises." John chewed his lip, suddenly glad for the weight of Dave's arm on his shoulder and nodded once more. "That's interesting. And to answer your question, yeah, he can stay for dinner. Long as his parents don't give a shit."

John raised both hands to about face level and brought them down, nimble fingers wiggling like he was talking about a waterfall, and then rubbed circles over his heart with one of them. "Wait please." He took out his phone, regretfully leaving Dave's touch to jog back down the stairs to text his dad. After a few minutes, he heard the door open and then close again, before a sudden shout broke the silence.

"Jooooohn! Where the hell are you?"

John gave a start, nearly dropping his phone in mid text and glared up at Dave, swatting the air in disapproval. "You scared me," he mouthed, turning back to the phone.

"Sorry." Dave tucked his hands behind his back and rested his chin on John's shoulder in an attempt to see the phone screen. "Texting your dad? What did he say? Can you stay or am I in trouble for kidnapping you?"

John nodded at him, tapping the picture and then miming taking a picture, then tapping the phone again.

"Something about a picture...no, I'm sorry. I don't get it."

"Wants...to...see...you and me," John mouthed, pointing to the phone again and shooting him an apologetic look.

"Oh!" Dave straightened and shrugged. "He wants to make sure you're not out and about with some creeper. Understandable. Just make sure Bro's not anywhere near the picture and you'll be fine."

John rolled his eyes, flipping his phone from the messages to the camera and then set it to front view. He looked at Dave, a bit shy because how dumb was this request? Only his dad would want a picture. He raised his hand, curling his finger to tell Dave to lean down. In the name of making sure they were both in the frame, Dave wrapped his arms around John's waist and returned his chin to the brunet's shoulder. He kept a decent amount of space between their faces, despite how tempted he was to go the preppy-girl-takes-picture-with-friends route and squish their cheeks together, and watched them in the screen of John's phone. A little smile snuck onto his lips. John glanced a little at Dave, turning his head slightly and then jumping when he realized that he'd taken a picture. He rolled his eyes and restarted the camera, looking into this time and upon seeing the small smile on Dave's lips, felt a broad grin grow on his own.

He quickly snapped the picture and flipped to his album, zooming past all the pictures from back home to find theirs. He looked at it and felt his heart give a little squeeze. They actually looked…really good together. The contrast between them was striking, John with his dark hair and Dave with his blonde, John with his easy grin and Dave with his quiet smirk. He sent it to his father, including a sarcastic caption, and brought his fingers to his chin, bringing them out again.

"Thank you."

"No problem. This face needs to be shared with the world." Dave stuck his hands daintily under his chin and fluttered his eyelashes. John scrunched up his nose, shaking his head and smiling, reaching to push Dave away. "Come on, let's go back to my room. Bro'll call the pizza in. Oh, wait." He stopped mid-stride to look back at John guiltily. "Toppings?"

John waved his hand in a dismissive gesture. "Anything," he said, shrugging. He'd pick off what he didn't like.

"Great." The blonde grinned and the lifted his hands to cup around his mouth. "Bro! The usual!" he called. He led John back to his room and rubbed his hands together. "So, guest of mine, what do you want to do? I've got some movies or..." His eyes fell on the mess of wires and CDs he'd made when Bro first made an appearance, a lovely reminder of his moment of uncool, and he wrinkled his nose. "Nope, I'm deciding for you. Movie. Living room." He shooed John back out, shutting the door behind him. He would clean that up later, after John left. "You like movies, right?"

Dave had him at "movies." He let himself be shooed out of Dave's room, turning around eagerly and nodding enthusiastically, mouth open in a wide grin. He raised his fist and waggled it. "Yes! Yes!"

Dave waved John to the couch and began searching the entertainment system for the remote. "What's your favorite? Oh, hold on." He found a pen and an old take-out menu, tossing them both toward the couch. "Here, use that until I can go get my phone from my room."

John flailed as Dave threw something at him, slapping them away on instinct and watching them hit the floor. Then he leaned over and picked them up, realizing what they were for and gasped, going to furiously scribbling, tongue sticking out in concentration. A few moments later Dave found the remote underneath a puppet that had a throwing star in its belly and most of its stuffing hanging from the wound. He lifted his shades to squint at it and then shrugged, tossing it back onto the pile. He flopped down on the couch next to John and flipped the TV on before leaning over to see what John wrote. The brunet turned eagerly to Dave, holding the menu out to him and nodding. "Anything with Nic Cage!"

Dave stared at him for a moment, cleared his throat, and clasped his hands together. "John." He looked over the edge of his shades to fix John a serious sideways stare. "No."

John fell back onto the sofa, clutching his stomach as he laughed. He flipped Dave off. "You choose then, asshole."

John's amusement brought a wide grin to Dave's face. He shoved John into the couch and stood up, popping his back. John gave a slight squeal, breaking into helpless giggles all over again. He dropped the remote onto John's lap as he passed.

"Nah. You pick. Hell, I haven't seen every Nic Cage movie. Maybe you'll change my opinion. I'll be right back. Gonna go find my phone. If Bro tries to harass you again, kick him in the throat." He walked the steps to his room and paused in the doorway. "By the way. You...um, never mind." He ducked into his room, face burning.

John sat up at the mention of himself, looking at Dave curiously, and then sat up on his knees, reaching out to him in protest as the blonde hurriedly walked out. He sat there, stuck in the reaching position for a few seconds before sitting back on his heels and pouting. He ran a hand through his thick, messy hair and turned back towards the TV, trying to figure out what it could've been that Dave was about to say.


	5. TG: Hold John's hand

**Author's Note: **Chapters focused on John's perspective are mostly written by lovemahBF. Chapters focused on Dave's perspective are mostly written by Stuckkie.

**TG: Hold John's hand**

Bro stood, leaning against the wall of the corner, and when Dave turned it he wrapped an arm around the young Strider's neck. "What were you bout to say, bro?"

"Jesus Christ, do you have to be so nosy?" Dave stopped and folded his arms over his chest defensively. "What's it to you, anyway?" Oh, wait, wait. He could use this to his advantage. Maybe. "Two things, if I tell you. One," he held up a finger, "you can't tell him. No secret sign language behind my back. I'm so completely serious about this." He waited for Bro's 'go on' nod before continuing. "And two," another finger, "I want that picture you took."

The second condition took a little deliberation. Finally, Bro nodded before raising a hand. "Wait, like you want the picture, or you want me to delete it?"

Dave rolled his eyes. "I want it. Don't you dare delete it. I'll hate you forever." He bit down on his lip and sighed through his nose. It sounded dumb now that he was actually about to say it. "I was just gonna say that he has a really amazing laugh and it makes me happy. And some other sentimental shit about how when I hear it, I can hear his voice. And yeah, it bums me out that I'll never _actually_ hear it, but I don't think I mind because who gives a fuck about a voice when he's nice and funny and somehow doesn't think I'm a complete loser? ...And that was about three times as much as I was going to tell you, fuck."

Bro's eyebrows rose up high as Dave talked. Dave hadn't told him that much about his emotions in what felt like a long time. Or maybe just not all at once. He chewed his cheek, tilting his head to the side and back as he looked down at Dave thoughtfully.

"You really fuckin' like this kid, don't you?" he murmured, glancing at the doorway and then back at Dave. He nodded, taking the camera out of his back pocket. "Get the picture, then give it back. Wouldn't scroll up too high unless you've got a hankerin' for a look into my private life." He smacked Dave's shoulder. "Now you run along and do whatever the fuck you're doing. I've got a cutie to woo out from under my bro's nose."

He turned to give a devious smile before walking into the living room and hopping over the sofa, landing beside John who flinched and blinked at him in surprise.

"Asshole!" Dave called down the hall.

He gripped the camera tightly, a smile spreading across his face. He tossed it up in the air and caught it before sprinting to his room to take the picture off and grab his phone. He deleted the image from the camera after transferring it to his computer for later enjoyment. Camera in hand and phone in pocket, he practically skipped back to the living room, spirits higher than they'd been in what felt like years.

"I'm coming in! You better not be making out!"

Bro, who had been signing to John about Washington, instantly shot out a hand, grabbing John's chin and turning his face towards the door so that when Dave came in he had the best view of Bro planting a sloppy one on his cheek. John gave a protesting squeak, pushing Bro away. The older man backed off instantly, laughing and jumping off the couch.

"He pushed you away, it doesn't count!" Dave sang.

Bro just laughed. "He's all yours, dude," he said, patting Dave's head on the way out.

The blonde teen threw a light-hearted punch at Bro's shoulder as he passed. He flopped down on the couch and blew out a long sigh, letting his head fall to the side so he could smile at John. "Did he behave? I'll kick his ass if he didn't." No, he won't.

John pulled out his phone and texted Dave, "He said you'd say that. Told me to tell you that you're weak."

"I'M NOT WEAK," he shouted. Bro's low chuckle sounded from somewhere in the apartment. "He's such a dick," Dave grumbled. "Did you pick a movie?"

A knock on the door sounded before John could reply and Dave hopped up to grab the twenty left on the table by the door. He paid for the pizzas, dropping the large one on the couch on the way to leave the medium one on the kitchen table, shoving a pile of shitty weaponry out of the way. He snagged two cans of soda from the fridge before returning to the living room and tossing one to John.

"So, did you pick one?"

John thought back to earlier when Dave had signed the same question to him repeatedly and grinned at him asking about the movie twice. "Do you always ask questions in multiples?" he teased before signing that, yes, he had. He then proudly texted Dave, "Con Air!"

"I don't ask questions in multiples...do I?" He grinned. "_Do_ I ask questions in multiples?" He received the second text and snorted. "Oh, god. Okay." He popped the tab on his can and took a long swig. "Let's do it."

John clapped happily as Dave acquiesced and turned to the TV, selecting the movie. Dave felt a small piece of his soul die when John hit play. Okay, that was an exaggeration. But still. The brunet then opened his soda and took a swig. He opened the pizza box and looked to Dave, putting his fingers together and then bringing them to his mouth, signing for Dave to eat, but Dave waved a hand in the general direction of the pizza.

"Guests first, dude."

John pouted and grabbed a slice of pizza, planning on making Dave grab a slice as well, but sweetness hit his tongue and that coupled with the taste of the pizza made him gag. He fought to swallow it. When he finally did, he looked over at Dave, the back of his hand pressed to his mouth as his eyes stared accusingly at the blonde. With his free hand he frantically signed, "Pineapple!?" before mouthing, "What the fuck!?" Dave laughed harder than he had all afternoon, one hand around his stomach and the other holding his shades in place as he rocked with the effort.

"Your face was fucking _priceless_! Oh, my god!" He recovered, coughing as he caught his breath. "Dude, don't hate on the pineapple. It's the shit." He snagged a slice of his own and took a large bite, making a point of humming in pleasure. "Besides, you said you were good with anything. This is your own fault. Blame yourself. Think about your life choices." He reached over to pull a piece of the fruit from John's slice, popping it into his mouth with a grin.

"Yeah, it's some kind of shit," John texted to Dave, swirling his tongue around his mouth and crinkling his nose in distaste as he could still taste the combination of cheese, sauce, garlic, and pineapple.

"Shut up." Dave gave John another playful shove, careful not to knock the soda from his hand.

John hurriedly took a large swig from the can and set it down again. Then, curling his legs beneath himself, he scooted next to Dave and peeled off a piece of pineapple. The blonde watched John slide closer warily, half expecting to get hit, but instead he offered a piece of pineapple, opening his mouth to demonstrate what he wanted Dave to do, and fuck if it wasn't the cutest thing. He suppressed a grin and opened his mouth, leaning forward to accept the fruit chunks. When John thought he'd gotten them all, he sat back, not moving back to his original position on the other end of the couch. Instead, he sat on the cushion beside Dave and looked hesitantly at the pizza. He tried it, happy to find that it didn't taste like pineapple, and turned his attention back to the movie.

He nudged Dave with his socked foot, giving a squeaking sound as Nic Cage appeared, and the high-pitched noise brought Dave's thoughts abruptly back to a comment Bro'd made earlier idly wondering what _other _noises John could make, an obnoxiously obvious dirty undertone to the remark. He fixed his attention firmly on the movie to avoid looking at John, willing the heat in his cheeks away. Not that it mattered. His eyes seemed to move of their own accord, flitting over to glance at the teen next to him far more often than he was okay with. He took in John's messy hair, the curve of his neck, the way his eyes jumped around to follow the movement on the screen, and suddenly he had to swallow past a lump in his throat. He took another large drink and finished off his slice in three bites. He reached down for another slice and began picking the pineapple off of it, offering it to John when he was done. Anything to keep watching the movie play across those blue eyes.

John took the slice of pizza, looking at Dave in surprise and gratitude. He nibbled at it until the part of the movie where Nic Cage gave his daughter the bunny appeared. Hurriedly scooting over directly next to Dave, he grabbed the other's hand and held it to his chest. He glanced at the blonde, quickly moving their hands so that he could bring his free hand to his chest and rub circles on it, signing "sorry" and then turning back to the movie. The spark that shot through him when John touched his hand threw Dave the hell off. He couldn't even really respond beyond a simple nod. _Yes, dear god, yes, you can hold my hand._ He wasn't sure exactly what was going on except that Cage's hair was fucking awful, because he hadn't really been watching the movie, but whatever was happening was clearly affecting John on some deeper level. He laced his fingers through John's and gave a gentle squeeze, taking a bite out of his crust, and waited for the scene to pass so he wouldn't have to feel bad about distracting John again.

When the scene ended, John let go of Dave's hand and moved back a bit, sending him an apologetic and sheepish smile. No, wait. That was not what Dave wanted. He wanted the hand to stay. Maybe if he rewound the movie, went back to the start of that scene. Shit, that was a dumb idea. Why did John make him feel so dumb? Yeah, he knew when he invited John to eat lunch with him that he liked this kid, but was it normal to want to kiss him so soon? Probably not. Bury that thought, Strider. Hide it from the light of day. Stop thinking dumb things. But really, was it too much to ask to hold Egbert's hand? He bit his lip, debating for all of half a second, and then his hand chased after John's, finding it on the couch between them and slipping palm-up under it. He took a deep breath and held it, looking to John for a reaction…

Eventually he had to breathe, and he tried to release the held breath without making too much noise, but...but. What was John doing? Dave was utterly convinced that the brunet was trying to think of a nice way to reject him, and yet he couldn't pull away because the hope was still lodged in his chest that those soft fingers would close around his again. It was starting to hurt, though. He should just...pull away. Play it off as a joke. Yeah. A joke. Bro would never let him live this down. He was about to do just that when finally, mercifully, with a shallow swallow of his nerves, John tentatively held Dave's hand back. Dave made eye contact with John and held it for a second before letting out a shaky laugh.

"Scared me half to death, Egbert. You don't have to hold my hand if you don't want to." _Please want to._

John glanced at Dave, ducking his head shyly and looking away before looking back, raising one hand out a ways and drawing it back to his chest, clutching his hand into a fist as he went. "Want." Want. Dave repeated the sign with a smile. He realized when his cheeks started hurting that he was smiling really hard and that maybe he should tone it down. He made the slight adjustments necessary to turn it into a smirk and went for another slice of pizza.

"You know, this movie ain't half bad," he said. The 'because you're here and holding my hand' went unsaid, but Dave's fingers tightened just that little bit.

"I told you," John texted, working up the nerve to give Dave his own little squeeze. It was a struggle to juggle the pizza and his phone without letting go of John, but Dave managed. He read the text and snorted.

"Uh huh. You sure did. I can't believe I ever doubted you." He was on a giddy high from the whole hand-holding thing and was about to propose another movie when he caught sight of the time on his phone. "Oh, hey. It's getting kind of late. Should I...take you home?"

John seemed to debate the question for several moments, glancing at Dave warily, and then he nodded.

"Oh. Okay." Dave tried to keep the disappointment out of his voice. But he _did_ offer, and John said yes, so that was that. Off they went. Or. _Or_. "Wait, wait, I didn't drive you around town yet. Is that a thing you still want to do? We can get ice cream or something. I know a really great place downtown. I mean, unless your dad wants you home early...?"

John instantly perked up, signing an enthusiastic "yes". Then he shook his head, grabbing his phone. "Tomorrow is Saturday. He'd love for me to stay out a bit later."

"Oh, let me guess. You're that kid who doesn't go out enough ever. Your dad weeps with every passing weekend that you don't act like a normal teenager. I'm doing him a service. You're welcome, John's dad."

Dave grinned and hopped up, offering his hand to John. God, it was amazing that he could do that. Fingers firmly laced with John's, he grabbed his keys and patted his back pocket to make sure he had his wallet.

"We're leaving! Don't wait up for me!" he called out as they left the apartment, not waiting for the reply that may or may not come from Bro.

Down the elevator and out to the car, and not once did he let go of that hand.


End file.
